


15.5; sour

by ralphstatortots



Series: george and alex [18]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Jealousy, Lapdance, M/M, again /:, not rlly tho cos alex couldnt give a lapdance to save his life, the last 3 boys are only kind of there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralphstatortots/pseuds/ralphstatortots
Summary: George might have been a little jealous. Only a little, he can admit that now.





	15.5; sour

**Author's Note:**

> cant rmmr who exactly asked for a second part but im like 80% sure a lot of u did so (: here thanx dan for giving me an idea for it ily
> 
> love how i said i wasnt gonna post until i felt better but idk what self care is so

George might have been a little jealous. Only a little, he can admit that now. It’s not like his stomach feels like turning itself inside out, or like he gets this constant cold prickle across the back of his neck, or like it constantly tastes like he’s been sick in his mouth. Nothing like that. It’s a simple bit of jealousy, and George can admit that it’s _only_ a small bit. It’s nothing more.

Except, if it was, why does it follow him? Why does it keep him up at night, clinging to his mind like an old spider’s web? It runs through his mind every time he tries to sleep, leaving it as a last thought, and the scene burns into his eyes. Why can’t George seem to leave it in the past?

It’s impossible to escape, and George fears he’s never going to forget it. What happened in the bathroom, between him and Alex, is only an afterthought. He can cherish the good all he likes, but it’s the bad that really influences his feelings on that night.

The bad being that fucking _lapdance_. It won’t leave George alone, no matter how many videos or how much editing he distracts himself with. All he can see whenever he closes his eyes, whenever he fucking _blinks_ , is Alex’s cheeks painted a pretty pink, hands clutching at the curve of James’ waist, staring up at him as he does this stupid shitty lapdance.

George doesn’t hate James. He genuinely doesn’t. It’s a battle between hating that James _actually did the joke_ and hating how Alex _let him do it._

He doesn’t say anything. Why would he? Will never sent the video to anybody, never posted it on Twitter or Instagram, and they never really spoke of it again. There’s not much point in bringing up a joke that no longer has relevancy.

Life goes on, George supposes. Their neighbours are dicks, Will earns them a few more noise complaints, and Fraser and James move into the same building. They go down to their new flat to celebrate, and George tries to forget the sense of déjà vu he gets.

They’re all seated on their ridiculously soft corner sofa and George hasn’t had enough to drink yet to have Alex hang all over him. It makes a strange crawling feeling trail down his back, coming in the form of a shiver, but George can’t make himself push the other boy away. Will keeps making wisecracks about what they do in their flat to earn more noise complaints, James pours drinks, Fraser calls them all arseholes and looks like he’s about to cry when Will mentions his lock screen being a picture his dog.

“D’you remember last time we drank?” Alex whispers to him, soft-spoken and fuzzy as he buries his face in George’s jumper. “Wait – not the last time. Time before.”

George knows what he’s talking about. “What time?” He pretends not to know.

Alex snorts a laugh and sits up a little straighter, leaning the line of his body up against George’s. “The time when James gave me that sorry excuse of a lapdance.” It makes George swallow down a somber noise. “Was that weird?”

“Was what weird – the fact you let your mate give you a lapdance?” George asks, turning to face the other man. He’s got a smile on those perfect pink lips, slightly chapped from the recent drops in temperature, and his eyes are lazy and glowing in this room that feels too dim all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I s’ppose.” Alex hums. His hands wander down to the strings of George’s hoodie, tugging on one so the knot of the other one stops at the hood. “Was that weird? You seem really weirded out by it.”

“Wasn’t you?” George snorts. Will shoots him a look, slightly confused, but George ignores it in favour of curling his arm around Alex’s shoulders when it’s tugged on. Will goes back to shouting at the game being played on the TV. “Nah, just...I wasn’t feelin’ too well that night.”

“You tensed up when I mentioned it just now,” Alex points out unhelpfully, “So you _are_ weirded out by it.”

“Don’t overthink things, Alex.” George scolds quietly. Alex only rolls his eyes at him and slumps over, leaning his head back onto George’s arm and fiddling with George’s hand that hangs over his shoulder.

“Why are _you_ thinking ‘bout it? Dreaming of Marriott climbing into your lap again?” George says back, intending for it to sound teasing, when instead it just sounds bitter. 

“Were you jealous?” Alex ignores his question, watching George out the corner of his eye as he leans forward to pour another JD and Coke for himself. “That’s kind of what it feels like. Not to be presumptuous.”

George grunts and downs half the glass just so he doesn’t have to answer. James spills a drink on the rug, making Will laugh and Fraser shout about cleaning it before it dries. Alex must be more of a lightweight than George thought, if he’s asking things like this.

“You’re jealous,” Alex points out, as if he knew all along. George has a hunch he might have. “You’re _jealous_.”

“I’m _not_ ,” George hisses and downs the rest of his drink. James sighs and puts his empty glass on a coaster before filling it back up for him. “Just leave it, yeah?”

Alex goes quiet for a few seconds. He doesn’t even watch as the other three bicker about ordering some food, only watches as George leans forward in his seat and away from Alex.

“We’re going upstairs,” Alex tells the others, interrupting their argument. George frowns and is about to protest until Alex pipes up again. “I’m tired and the neighbour doesn’t have a go when George is there.”

James snorts and grabs Will’s phone while he’s distracted. “That’s surprising since George is the least threatening person I’ve ever seen,” He says and leans out of Will’s reach when he tries to grab his phone. “But you’re missing out on pizza if you do.”

“We’re not havin’ pizza!” Will shouts, shoving James and falling over into his lap as he tries to take his phone. Fraser groans and slumps over into the seat that George is pulled out of.

“What are you doing?” George hisses at the other boy when they’re in the hallway, heading for the lifts. “I would rather drink myself blind than sit in that fuckin’ flat bored, _again_.”

Alex only scoffs and gets into the lift, stumbling a little after it starts moving and steadying himself on George’s arm. “You’ll see. Just– wait and see, okay?”

George sighs, but let’s it happen. His head is starting to hurt, so whatever Alex has planned better be quick. He hasn’t a clue what’s happening, but he’d much rather pass out until midday than deal with this sickening lump that’s sat in his chest. Mentally, he curses Alex for bringing up that stupid lapdance again.

George finds himself on the sofa a few minutes later. He isn’t quite sure how he found himself here, but something’s prised his lips apart, caught his tongue and filled his mouth with cotton wool, so it’s not like he can ask. All George can do right now is sit and watch as Alex climbs into his lap. He knees dig into his thighs, making George wince until hands grip at his shoulders.

“What the fuck’re you doing?” He manages to sputter out.

Alex doesn’t answer and only grins, small and matching the shy hint of pink on his cheeks. He brings George’s hands up to his waist, curling his fingers under his jacket until George feels bare skin underneath his fingertips. Alex shivers at the touch.

“I’m givin’ you a lapdance,” Alex replies cheerfully, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily. “Since you were so _jealous_.”

“I wasn’t jealous.” George mutters, hitching his breathe when Alex presses himself further into George’s hands. “You’re drunk.” He spits out, like it’s an accusation.

“So are you,” Alex hums. It’s not much of a lapdance he’s doing – more like a weird attempt at grinding, and it’s quickly after George has that thought that he realises that’s _exactly_ what Alex is going.

“This isn’t a lapdance,” George sucks in a breath, and curses the way his dick twitch in his jeans. “You’re just–dry humping me.”

Alex quirks an eyebrow and smirks, slotting their hips together with a poorly disguised gasp. His mouth finds George’s jaw, mouthing at the line of his throat, biting at his pulse that jumps beneath his teeth. George can’t do anything but let it happen – like he would try and stop this at all anyway.

“I’m gonna do what I should’ve done, yeah?” Alex gasps into his skin. His hand digs into George’s thigh, making his skin ache from the pressure. “Would a blowjob have made you happy that night?”

“What?” George asks dumbly.

“If I got on my knees, in the bathroom.” Alex explains and settles back onto George’s legs. “Would it have made you feel better? Would you have been less jealous if I’d have blown you?”

George gapes for a second, enraptured in the hand fiddling with his jeans, slipping between the gap and stroking his cock through his boxers.

“Yes,” He chokes out. “Yeah. But you wouldn’t have.”

Alex grins again, like he’s keeping a secret that he shouldn’t know. “I would’ve, if I had known it would make you feel better.” He pauses briefly, biting his lip. “I would’ve even if you weren’t sad, if I weren’t fucking drunk out my mind.”

“Will you now?” George asks desperately. Alex’s hand disappears, same with his presence on his lap, and it takes George a second to realise Alex is on the floor, settled between George’s knees like he belongs there. The sight makes him swallow heavily.

“Do you even need to ask?” Alex shakes his head, bringing his hands back up to tug down George’s jeans.

George can think about the consequences of this later. He can dwell on it, let it soak into his mind when he’s not about to get his cock sucked by this boy – _this gorgeous boy_ – and think about the meaning of it all later.


End file.
